Her Love Is Evil
by DianaChaseKirkland
Summary: He dies for her, she looks away. Just how much does it hurt him and how much can he stand? ThomasxTeresa AU. Rated T because I feel like it :P May do more of this.


**A/N: Hello everybody! Me again, and this time with a little one-shot for one of my latest fandoms. This was inspired by Avantasia's song "Your Love Is Evil" (great song, go listen to it, now ._. hahaha). Initially I was going to stick to the song, but somewhere along the way this took a detour and now it's not exactly what I had intended…but I like it all the same :P**

**Anyway, I hope you like it too and leave a review with your opinion :) **

**I don't own The Maze Runner Series or any of its characters. James 'Feelsbreaker' Dashner does. I only had to make up Thomas' last name ;)**

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Thomas Maine knew he'd lost it when her cold blue eyes stared back at him in his dream

He woke up with a groan. Now it was too much. He sat up and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. It was killing him. It was going to kill him one of these days. This unreasonable love, this mad adoration he felt for her.

Only for her.

Teresa Agnes.

Not a blonde cheerleader, not a popular meanie, not even a noticeable girl in the middle of a high school crowd. No. She was just a common girl-somewhat. The kind of girl who sat on the back of the classroom, ate alone at the cafeteria, scored straight A's in all the assignments and spoke from little to nothing with anyone. The kind of girl one would miss at first sight.

But not Thomas.

And that was precisely the thing: why not Thomas?

Maze High took pride in its lack of "nonsensical sports" such as football or basketball, supporting instead the more bodily disciplines as they called them. Athleticism and Gymnastics, specifically. Which meant that, in the school society, the ones with the status weren't cute football players or team leaders, but skilled gymnasts and strong athletes. Thomas liked to count himself among the later.

He was a Runner, though their weirdo trainer's official term was "High Resistance, Long Distance Coverer Athlete", but Runner worked for him, as did for the rest of the student population. Runner. Second best in the team and in the whole school, his best mark only two milliseconds under that of his best friend, Minho.

In Maze High? It meant Thomas had a world of blonde cheerleaders, popular meanies and particularly noticeable beauties at his feet, and surrounding him like flies at all times of the day, which rather annoyed him actually. But the only girl he ever saw was her.

He always watched her. He watched her in the mornings, arriving at the school on foot or rare times when she stepped out of the back seat of a fancy car. He watched her during classes (which was easy since she was in most of his classes), her head always up and her eyes fixed on the teacher, tilting her head as if listening with great interest and sometimes scribbling things in her notebook. He watched her during lunchtime. He would pretend to be laughing at Minho's jokes, pretend he was listening to the incessant chatter of whatever girl was trying to get his attention that day, but his glance would always dart away to the far side of the cafeteria, where she sat alone, eating quietly.

He was quite mad, he often told himself. It couldn't be normal, nor healthy, to feel that much longing for a person. To have her for an angel rather than a human, to feel so in heaven with happy thoughts of love, to have his heart ache so much at realizing that he just dreamed.

His friends didn't seem to quite grasp why Thomas liked a girl such as her. Newt and Alby, gymnasts, had the logical but monotone thought of Thomas finding her attractive in some odd way and qualified the whole thing as infatuation (bloody infatuation, mind you). Chuck, a fellow Runner, offered that maybe he was a rebel and wanted to defy the society by dating an almost invisible girl and thus end with the social differences in the school system, just like in the movies. Minho's theory, though, was that Thomas just wanted to have sex with her.

'Fever dream,' he said, 'and not really the best you can have man.'

But they didn't understand. How could they, anyway? They couldn't view her in the way Thomas did, they couldn't see her through his eyes. If they did they'd know just how ridiculous their words were. It wasn't a desire born from his unstable hormones; it wasn't the sweet little 'Mr.-Popular-loves-Miss-Nobody' sort of thing; and he was one hundred percent sure that it wasn't just a teenager infatuation, something he would get over in another year's time or less.

No, it was much deeper.

Not that he could understand it himself. Just the sight of her, just the thought of her stirred something in his heart, struck a chord that made the rest of his body vibrate, made him feel whole and empty at the same time, because he knew he would never have her.

Because she knew of his feelings, he had no doubt. He knew his eyes gave him away. That in them shone all of his adoration for her. And whenever she thought he wasn't looking, she sneaked glances at him. During practice he sometimes felt her watching him, her icy blue stare studying his every move. But then, why didn't she acknowledge him? Why, the few times he'd mustered enough courage to approach her she was curt and cold, her ways almost screaming at him to go and leave her alone.

At first he thought it was something against him, but then he'd seen that she was the same way with everyone and that she talked to no one. Well, only to that guy in Thomas' chemistry class, Aris. It seemed they were childhood friends and he would sometimes greet her in the hallways or sit with her at lunch. Thomas liked the guy well enough, but he couldn't help but be fiercely jealous of him, of the fact that he could freely speak with his angel, make her smile and laugh, a sound that was music for Thomas' ears and that made her even more beautiful to him.

Her quietness intrigued him, though. He couldn't imagine what could be the reason behind it. He respected it, liked it even, but it intrigued him all the same. It couldn't be shyness: she was top orator, always gave the speeches at important events and had even starred some school plays. Not out of shame of herself: she was undeniably beautiful, nothing extraordinary according to Thomas' friends, but in his eyes she was the most beautiful girl ever.

And definitely not in shame of her family or anything like that: her father, Frederick Agnes, was the owner of an important company of scientific research that had some of the most complex investigations of the human brain and, in other of its departments, had made several major discoveries for the treatment of genetic diseases world wide, and that gave job to almost a third of the city. Thomas' own parents worked there, his father as a researcher neurologist and his mother as an accountant. In other words, Teresa was both ridiculously rich and important, a fact she never made use of.

Sometimes he thought that the Teresa he saw wasn't the real one and at the same time that everything was there. It was like looking through crystal, he'd concluded. Some things he could see clearly, but the same light hid away others, blocking his view. One day he thought he saw the smallest hint of a smile in her lovely face (directed to him) and the next one her stoicism was greater than ever.

She had turned him down every single time he'd asked, returned his letters and gifts now three Valentine's Days (of course, with no one knowing) and coldly and shamelessly looked away whenever their eyes met.

And yet, Thomas knew she felt something for him, even if very slight, even if she only considered him good looking, but there was something, even in the way she turned her head away from him, and it was enough to make him happy. Now, if only she would give him a chance. Just one. Just let him reach out through her crystal wall to demonstrate that nobody would love her like he would, that he'd be unstoppable, that he'd do anything for her if she gave him the word. If only there was the chance of a chance.

But there was none, he scolded himself before laying down again on his bed. None at all, and that was what hurt him the most. That he was doomed to spend the rest of his life suffering of heartache, crying over an unrequited love. Because no matter how much he tried to make her feel or how much she actually felt, she didn't give in, she kept lying to them both, breaking him, and maybe rejoicing in it or simply disregarding the whole thing.

Whatever it was he had the worst end of the deal. His heart would never turn away from her as her eyes so easily did from him. While she would one day forget him and find someone to be with, to give her love to (a love she apparently didn't think him worthy of), he knew he'd never have such luck. He knew he'd never be able to try to love someone else, to look back on his past and see her there only as a memory, because she would always be his present, what he lived for day by day. And to think that he was only seventeen!

Anyone who heard him would laugh at his "fatalistic drama." Call it "typical of the age." But Thomas didn't believe in teenager bullshit. He liked to believe when his mother said that 'things can always change', but in his gut and in his heart he seriously doubted that'd be his case.

He smiled bitterly. There he was, mourning over his imminent doom, hurting so much because of her, and she didn't even care! She had the solution to his life, the cure to his suffering…and she held it back. Even if he loved her, he had to recognize that she was evil.

He decided to try and sleep. But as soon as he closed his eyes he saw her own, cold and blue, watching him with cold indifference. But deep inside he saw a light that illuminated the world, that made him cry in his joy and dissipated whatever fears he could have ever felt. He saw the same light he knew shone in his eyes when he beheld her. The light of love: of love for him. And then her gaze turned away, leaving him in the dark.

Definitely, her love was evil.

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**Review please :3 Thanks for reading and see you ;)**


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